


In the space between doors a heartbeat lasts an eternity

by Tobi_Black



Series: illusions cast upon the Space-Between-Doors [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Tobirama survives, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 17:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobi_Black/pseuds/Tobi_Black
Summary: Tobirama had expected to die, but he hadn’t. The world had moved on as if he had, even if he was caught at just surviving out of spite.It left him out of sorts and at a crossroads.





	In the space between doors a heartbeat lasts an eternity

**Author's Note:**

> #This is me being unable to NOT touch upon the fact that Tobi’s got Issues™
> 
> Takes place shortly after Time Is A Illusion

Tobirama was sitting in some bed of the hospital, alone with Mito.

His sister-in-law had sent his team fleeing with one hard-eyed look and orders to go retrieve Tōka from her self-proclaimed exile inside his brother’s overgrown not-so-friendly garden that the village had called the Forest of Death instead of its official name, Area 44. Kagami had looked fit to argue, with his eyes a dark red, but Danzō had dragged him off with a whispered conversation Tobirama didn’t quite catch.

Absently, he had tracked their chakras through the village, heading to where his cousin could only faintly be felt while accompanied by her favored summon, that humongous albino Bengal tiger named Byakko she’d always liked to joke was a lot like him if he’d been born a cat. Mito brought his attention right back to her with a snap.

“You have a choice, Tobirama, right now to make. The village thinks you dead; our whole world thinks that Tobirama Senju, Nidaime Hokage, died in the last battle of the Shinobi War. I know that the duties of Hokage have laid heavy on you these seven years since Hashirama died. I myself have only lingered in Konoha so long for you and my sons, and have made it clear that I will be leaving for Uzushio as soon as Hiruzen is settled in as the Sandaime, if he is voted in by the jounin. If you wish to join me, you are welcome to, the Uzumaki will welcome you as a distant cousin and as my brother-in-law.”

She placed her hands over the seal on her stomach containing Kyuubi.

“If you stay, you still have a choice to make. Let Tobirama Senju, one of the last survivors of the Warring States, die, and choose to do something you want to do with the rest of your live, other than being a weapon. Or return to how things were - as either the Nidaime or maybe an advisor of Hiruzen. You need to make some sort of decision soon though, before anyone realizes that you survived and the choice is taken from you.”

He watched as she tweaked the seal as she talked, letting the edges of her chakra blur into the Kyuubi’s, which was normally hidden to the point where it was really only because he knew to look that he could sense the Kyuubi, to something that filled the room like a bonfire did with warmth. Belatedly, he realized that her chakra had been like this, through not quite to the point as to completely obscure his chakra signature even without his engrained control, since he’d neared the village.

She’d wanted him to have the chance to decide.

“I- I appreciate this, Ane. I’ve never entertained any ideas of what I would do if I wasn’t a shinobi though, I don’t even know where to start. Aniija used to dream near the end, of a life where he stepped down, and could devote the rest of his life to you and making you happy. I’d remind him that we were the boogeymen of our world, and that there was no retirement for us.”

She laid a hand atop of his.

“I knew, I knew when I was considering marrying him so many years ago, that I was marrying more than a man. I was marrying his clan, his ideas, and everything that meant. He was always open about his dream of a village, and I knew that when he succeeded, it would mean that he would likely be the leader until death, and I accepted that. I made that choice. You loved him, would have chosen him regardless, but he never offered you the choice to be Hokage. You choose Hiruzen to be your successor in much the same way, but the difference was that Hiruzen _wanted_ that dream. He talked to me before he proposed to Biwako, because he wanted her to go in with eyes wide open to what marriage to him could mean as not just wife of a clan head but wife of a Hokage. _You_ wanted something else other than to be Hokage but accepted your brother’s last request because you would never have denied him such a thing.”

Tobirama twined their fingers together, not able to say a word because Mito had always understood better than his own brother had about what he had and hadn’t wanted.

She’d known that he’d been content amongst all the administrative work of building a village, developing it into something to be proud of. He’d wanted none of the leadership, but like he’d taken care of the clan, he’d taken care of the village, with no intention of ever outliving his brother because for all he’d wanted his brother to have passed in his sleep like he had, he’d never thought it would happen. He’d always thought it would have been like he nearly had; fighting to the last, sacrificing himself for their clan, for Konoha. She’d watched as she’d trained her sons on how to lead the clan, to replace him as the steadying hand to their father, then to act as his heirs when he was abruptly the clan head.

 Now, he’d not only outlived his brother by decades, six years older than most shinobi died at, and he was at a loss for what to do since he’d somehow managed to successfully pass on the mantle that he had never wanted. Her sons were leading the Senju clan as was their birthright, had been for several years now and had rarely sought his advice since the war had begun. He was practically obsolete.

What he did now that he wasn’t boxed into being a shinobi by virtue of birth, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he could be anything else at this point.

Without notice, his eyes drifted from where his cousin was streaking towards them like death was on her heels and his team following as fast as they could, to what he could hardly believe existed.

He’d done all the work to create the jutsu, done everything needed to see his one private dream become a reality, but he’d always known he likely never would get the chance to follow through with it. The war had consumed his life, the worst sort of déjà vu to what his life had been like before Konoha, and the longer it had dragged on, the more he’d been sure that he wouldn’t see the end of it. He _shouldn’t_ have seen the end of it, and he had prepared Hiruzen the best he could to take up his mantle for when the inevitable happened, but then the war had been waning.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that while his logic had been sound – because he’d stood the best chance to survive or at least hold the Kumo nin long enough his team could get away – he’d volunteered because he was facing the second time that he’d seen an end of seemingly endless war and he wasn’t made for peace. For his brother he’d tried, and come close to succeeding, but six years of war had undone what fifteen years of a relative sort of peace had done to smooth out some of his sharp edges. He’d survived because he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of being able to say they’d killed him, just spiteful enough to not die fighting anyone but an equal, not when nearly ten years of fighting Izuna hadn’t killed him.

He hadn’t lived in a long time, perhaps not since Kawarama and Itama had died, but his team had let him act like he had been.

Now, they’d gone and given him something to live _for_.

“I think I’ll stay. I want to be a father, one better than my own.”


End file.
